


you're in my veins

by yavanei



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yavanei/pseuds/yavanei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>"The betrayal of love has boundaries."</strong> They would never have a happy ending. He would never get out. He would never leave for her, even though he promised he would. He would never leave for her, even though <em>she stayed for him.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	you're in my veins

**I know how much you love Jax.**

_Love._ The word itself seemed inadequate.

The night she told him she was leaving Charming for San Diego he looked like he’d been slapped in the face. He didn’t beg her, didn’t even pretend he’d be able to change her mind, but as he pulled her into a final embrace his voice betrayed him.

“Tara,” he whispered her name like a prayer, over and over, as he held her. And then it cracked - it _broke_. He cleared his throat, tried to hide it. But the damage was done.

From her position, her head secured in the nook of his shoulder and neck, Tara could see Gemma standing in front of Teller-Morrow with her arms folded and a scowl forming on her lips.

**No, you don’t.**

When he pulled her into his arms and hugged her for the first time in a decade, she could feel his relief washing through her. She laughed, he smiled, and the familiarity of his touch warmed her. It gave her hope that everything would be okay.  It was only when she pulled back, unzipped his cut, and saw the blood that she knew nothing had truly changed.

She screamed when the gun went off, watched in transfixed horror as Kohn’s lifeless body fell to the floor. It was the silence that came after that made it all worth it, though. As he gazed into her eyes, as their bodies became one - it was unlike anything she had felt since she left him. It was only when she was with him the noise cut off. The endless questioning and debating - everything stopped.  When she was with him nothing else mattered. It frightened her and exhilarated her all at once.

The next time she told him she was leaving wasn’t like the last. He blew up, accused her of running. He made confessions, declarations; he said things that should have disgusted her. _There’s only one face I see._ Where there should have been anxiety- even possibly revulsion - in the pit of her stomach at such a statement, there was only a keen sense of _want._

When she was in University and medical school she struggled to understand why she couldn’t let go of him. Why she didn’t just have the damn tattoo removed. Why she evaded answering truthfully when other men asked her what it meant. She would be lying if she said she didn’t find reassurance in the fact that despite marrying another woman and having a son, it had always been her for him.

 _Running?_ Maybe he was right. But she ran from Chicago to Charming. She ran to _him_. He was her shelter; her sanctuary. They were each other’s sword and shield. They were each other’s armor.

But he was also too much - too much of everything. Loving him made her do things she never thought herself capable of doing. Loving him made her feel _alive_. It was a terrifying balance of power and insecurity. Loving him caused her to abandon all reason; all logic. Maybe it was true - maybe love really was blind.

**The betrayal of love has boundaries.**

She wanted to believe him when he said he was getting out. No, she _did_ believe him. She knew he could do anything if he set his mind to it. The problem was he never set his mind to anything beyond the club.

What were her boundaries? Where was the line to how much she could take? How long would she wait on empty promises, only to be disappointed when they were never fulfilled? Was there even a line anymore?

She’d killed, threatened, and hurt people since coming back to Charming. She did what she had to do. She was his old lady, after all. He was hers. She made a choice to stay, to support him. That’s what you do when you love someone, right?

The first night she spent in prison was when she realized she was only skin and bones, stretched, taut, and ready to snap. They would never have a happy ending. He would never get out. He would never leave for her, even though he promised he would. He would never leave for her, even though _she stayed for him._

She sometimes wished she could hate him, even wished she left when she got the chance. But when she thought of Abel and Thomas she couldn’t be angry she stayed.  They were worth it. She would do all of it over for them. For _him_ too, she confessed to herself.

**Ones that I have to live with.**

They both knew it was over. They wouldn’t say it, but they knew. As she wordlessly climbed onto the back of his motorcycle she knew what she had to do. Since they were teenagers she had been his old lady. She had to be strong where he couldn’t be. She had to harden herself to him in order to give their sons a fighting chance – a chance to get out and be free, a chance to not make the same mistakes they made.

They slept together that night and for the first time she could hear the noise again. The endless questioning and debating didn’t stop. He didn’t block it out like he used to. When she was with him, _everything_ else mattered. Their sons mattered.  Unwanted and unbidden, tears pooled in her eyes and he didn’t even notice. He didn’t want to notice. They weren’t even looking at each other - both of them were pretending now.

Tara wasn’t sure if she believed in soul mates, or twin flames, or whatever it was that people called these things, but she knew with certainty she would never love anyone the way she loved Jackson Teller. It was a revelation that once brought her a small measure of joy, but all it left her with now was a gnawing ache. She wanted to break down, to sob, to scream and cry. She wanted to slam her fists against his chest and make him fight _for her_ for once instead of the club.

But she wouldn’t. There was no use. She cried in silence, and realized she could either let this love destroy her or make her stronger.

After they killed Kohn, he was the one that told her she was a survivor.

She just wondered if she would be able to survive him.


End file.
